Music Monday is a series begun in an attempt to keep me from listening to this, this, and this song for the 456,070,877th time. Every Monday I’ll offer my completely untrained and value-less opinion on new (to me) music.
. . .
I’m torn. Everyone seems to be on an Autumn craze, and though I also am waiting eagerly for the beginning of my very favorite season, I’m desperately hanging onto these last few days of summer—the last few nights of a thick humidity and croaking cicadas that provide the perfect backdrop to night-swimming and PBR-drinking.
I get fully into the spirit of each season. Watermelon, the Beach Boys, and Truck Stop Honey are for summer. Pumpkin, the Strokes, and Pinot Noir are for fall. No exceptions.
However, I need some music that spans the gap—a band that I can listen to in a tank top with all the windows down, and blast on the back porch while wrapped in a blanket.
Young the Giant fits the bill for this transition perfectly: My Body makes me aspire to the perfect head-bang, Apartment makes me want to get in my car and drive with all the windows down, and Guns Out makes me want to dance in the quickly cooling night air. Added bonus, they remind me a lot of the Strokes, so music-snob and Coldplay-lover alike will dig it.
Embrace the middle ground. It’s not so bad, after all.